There was unspeakable pain in the body, as if every bone was broken and the flesh and blood were falling apart, like a snowman exposed to the sunlight, heading towards irreversible destruction.
Figures flashed outside the tent, flames were everywhere, and the fighting never stopped.
Anthony picked up a sharp sword and used both hands to support himself to keep himself from falling. He gasped for breath, and blood continued to drip, staining the ground beneath his feet.
It hurt a lot, not just the physical pain, but also the scars engraved into the soul, which constantly detonated Anthony's nerves and tortured his mind.
Then came fatigue. An unprecedented feeling of fatigue enveloped Anthony. Breathing became difficult, as if a thousand-pound rock was pressing on his chest. If Anthony hadn't held on, he might not even have been able to hold the sword in his hand.
"That's terrible, Your Majesty."
Anthony muttered, with a helpless smile on his face.
Injuries, fatigue, and the pressure of responsibilities, all of these were imposed on Anthony, bombarding the mortal heart.
"You guys... are looking at me, right?"
Anthony moved his gaze with difficulty and looked into the shadows inside the tent. He didn't know if it was an illusion or something else, but he could hear the surrounding conversations. Some strange and hateful things were lingering in his ears, whispering.
In a trance, he could see hundreds of scarlet eyes and echoing laughter. They were staring at Anthony, waiting for the moment he collapsed.
Anthony held on. He couldn't lose, at least not now.
The muscles in his body seemed to be petrified and difficult to move. He couldn't help but close his eyelids. He wanted to fall straight down and fall into a deep sleep.
The loud explosion temporarily grabbed Anthony's attention. The explosion was very close, just nearby, and then a heat wave swept through, making the tent rustle. For a moment, Anthony felt dizzy. He tried to take two steps, and then knelt down weakly, but he leaned on his sword tightly and failed to fall down completely.
"Your Majesty, I think... I found the answer, although I'm not sure whether it's right or wrong."
Anthony knelt down completely, sword in front of him, and prayed.
Anthony seems to have found the elusive thing that he has been chasing for a long time, and is about to hold it firmly in his hands...
"You didn't lose..."
He took a deep breath and stood up again. This time he moved without hesitation, as if his broken bones were recast with steel. The price he paid was that his healed wounds were torn open again, emitting a fishy smell of blood.
"So, I can't lose either."
There was a rolling white fire rising in the bottom of his eyes, and the secret blood was mobilized again, but this time it was much hotter than before, the high-temperature blood was rushing in the blood vessels like red-hot magma, and looking from under the wound on Anthony's body, one could even see a faint flame rising.
Like a burning dead tree, flames were burning between the dry and old trunks. As Anthony moved, sparks overflowed from the wounds and dissipated into the air.
At this moment, Anthony was in a very calm mood. His previous anxiety and uneasiness had disappeared. It was as if he had been "enlightened".